


Buttons at the Door

by Lady_Juno



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen, because Bilbo makes such a wonderful woman, fem!Bilbo, girl!Bilbo, lady!Bilbo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-27
Updated: 2014-04-27
Packaged: 2018-01-21 01:43:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1533071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Juno/pseuds/Lady_Juno
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How a certain meeting may have gone differently if Bilbo weren't Bilbo at all, but Billa. :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Buttons at the Door

Billa Baggins took a deep breath of the fresh summer air, smiling contently into the sunshine of a beautiful morning directly before taking a correspondingly deep breath of the smoke that issued from her long, thin pipe. She'd always had a weakness for Longbottom leaf, and this morning she had decided to indulge her cravings a little, for no other reason than it was a Saturday, and such days ought to be enjoyed. Exhaling the delicious smoke though her nose, the halfling let her eyes close, enjoying the taste of it brushing up over the back of her tongue. There was nothing, she thought, absolutely nothing, that could spoil such a perfect morning. 

As though summoned by the mere thought of spoiling things, a large shadow fell across Billa's face, and she opened her eyes to look up at the form of an old man. He was one of the Big Folk, that was plain enough to see. An eccentric one, too, dressed in long, ragged grey robes and a tall, crookedly pointed hat. His grey beard was long enough to tuck into his belt, and he was leaning on a strong wooden staff, smiling benignly down at her. Still, there was no harm in eccentrics. Her own mother had been more than a bit eccentric herself, and Billa liked to think that she understood the crazy side of life a little better than most hobbits her age. So, with a pleasant smile, she nodded to the old man.

"Good morning." 

The old man, rather than nodding in return, lifted one bushy eyebrow at her. "What do mean by 'good morning?'" he asked, in a grumpy sort of tone. "Do you mean to say that you are good on this morning? Or that the morning is good whether I like it or not? Or perhaps that this is a morning to be good on?" 

Eccentric, she'd been prepared for. This was a little beyond eccentric. Perhaps even a bit crazy. Billa shifted uncomfortably under his gaze and held her pipe by the bowl, trying to comfort herself with the warm, familiar wood. "Well, all of them at once, I suppose." The hobbit was justfiably surprised when the old man laughed disbelievingly under his breath. 

"To think," he muttered, loud enough for her to hear, "that I would live to be 'good morning'd by Belladonna Took's daughter, as though I were selling buttons at the door." Billa had intended to let the old man pass on with nothing more than a friendly nod, but the sound of her mother's name unsettled her very much. So much, that she forgot politeness almost at once.

"Well, if you were selling buttons, I should invite you in at once. But as it stands, you're doing something significantly less useful," she responded tartly. Then, realizing her rudeness, the halfling flushed and puffed on her pipe before continuing. "I'm sorry. I've no right to be sharp with you on such a beautiful day. May I ask your name, sir, and if you would be interested in sharing supper with me this evening, should you still be around these parts?" The old man seemed a little surprise, but very pleased by this turn of events.

"I should certainly be obliged to accept your kind offer. I am Gandalf, and Gandalf is... me." 

"Gandalf?" Billa felt a mild shock. "You don't mean Gandalf Greymere? Gandalf the Wandering Wizard? Gandalf, who made such wonderful fireworks?" The old man smiled, seeming even more pleased.

"I'm glad to see that something of my reputation has remained, even if you remember little more than sparkles." 

Billa grinned, her previously soured mood completely forgotten. "Well, this is a pleasant surprise. Please, when you've finished your business in Hobbiton for the day, come back to Bag End. I would be more than happy to be your hostess for the night. There's more than enough room for a guest here, even one of your size." 

"I should hope there's more room than that," murmured the Wizard, and bowed his head slightly, smiling. "I would be honored to see you this evening." Something about the way he spoke made Billa suspicious, but she was distracted by the prospect of company. She didn't often invite anyone into her home, let alone one of the Big Folk. There was preparing to do.

"I'll see everything ready for you by supper time," she promised, hopping up and turning toward her door. Beautiful and green, freshly painted just last week. The sight of it made the halfling smile. Just the right shade of green. Very much just right. When she glanced back at the path, Gandalf was still standing there, smiling at her front door. Perhaps he liked the color as well. She waved cheerfully, then disappeared inside, more excited than she'd been in ages. Bag End was going to host a party like it hadn't seen in quite some time. 

Oh, how the truth sneaks in where we least expect it.


End file.
